Three Snippets of Life
by Scrawlers
Summary: Snippets from the Doctor's life in the parallel universe. At the very least, he can take comfort in the fact that things are never, ever dull. Contains Doctor/Rose, naturally.


**Disclaimer: **I do not own Doctor Who or any of its properties. If I did, Steven Moffat would not be in charge right now.

**Notes: **This was written forever ago and posted to Tumblr. In an attempt to update this account with some things, I decided to post it here. Originally this was going to be thirteen drabbles long, but I only made it to three.

As a final note, I imagine that Rose never got a flat of her own in the parallel universe prior to "Journey's End" because the manor was large enough and she figured she wouldn't be staying. Why sign a lease and buy furniture for a flat she'd never see again once she made it back to the Doctor? Post "Journey's End" she and TenToo have the TARDIS coral and the Tyler estate is large enough for them to have a wing of their own, so while they grow their TARDIS they continue to stay there (again, why sign a lease for a flat that they'll abandon as soon as their TARDIS is grown?). Just some headcanon of mine, and it isn't _too _terribly important for the drabbles/fic below.

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><p><strong>Three Snippets of Life<strong>

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><p><strong>1.) Betrayal - <strong>

"_ROSE!"_

The Doctor's shout was more like a wounded howl, easily audible from the top floor of the mansion. Rose met him at the staircase, the Doctor staring up at her with a furious, pained expression—the sort of look she'd only ever seen him wear in the direst situations, when lives were at stake or already lost.

"What?" she asked, and even with alarm already gripping her heart, she managed to keep her voice steady. "What's wrong? What happened?" The Doctor held something up so she could get a better look at it.

"What are these?" he demanded, his voice tight and barely controlled. She blinked, and leaned forward against the railing.

"Crisps?"

"Yes, they're crisps, but they're not _ordinary _crisps, are they?" The Doctor bolted up the stairs, taking them two at a time until he was nearer to the top landing. She reached out to take the bag from him. "They're not—they're not _digestible _crisps, they're not anything that any living being should ever be subjected to eating—"

It took Rose a moment to see what the problem was, and when she did, she laughed. "All this fuss over pear flavored crisps?"

"_Pear flavored crisps_!" The Doctor snatched the bag back and waved it in her face, as though doing so would help her understand the gravity of the situation better. "Who would make such a thing? Who would _buy _such a thing? Was it your mother? Did she do this as a sort of hint that I should leave?"

"Mum doesn't do the grocery shopping anymore. We have a serving staff for that. They probably got them because they look interesting. Dad likes to try things like this." Rose reached over to pull one out of the bag to try it for herself, but the Doctor held it out of her reach.

"I won't let you subject yourself to this, Rose," he said gravely. "They're too dangerous. These monstrosities are going right in the bin where they belong, and I _will _be having words with whomever was responsible." With that, he turned to trudge back down the stairs, and Rose rolled her eyes.

"You wouldn't have this problem if you'd look at the bag before putting things in your mouth!" she called after, but all she got in response was one hand raised to show that he'd heard her.

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><p><strong>2.) Mornings - <strong>

"We're going to be late."

"Mmnghgm."

"Don't know what language that was, but whatever it is I'm pretty sure not even the TARDIS could translate it," Rose muttered, as she took off her bathrobe to pull clothes on instead. The Doctor, still sprawled on their bed, had his face buried in his pillow, his dark hair sticking up in even more directions than it would after he finished styling it. After another minute or two he slowly dragged himself to the edge, draping his arms over the side to brush the carpet.

"Rose," he said, his voice still muffled by the mattress, but at least audible this time. She made a small noise in the back of her throat to show that she'd heard as she pulled on her pants. "Let's stay home today."

"Can't," she said, and he groaned. "I've got new recruits to train, yeah? I told you about this last week."

"The recruits will train themselves. Someone else will train them. They don't need to be trained." The Doctor raised one arm, grabbing at the air in her general direction as if he could use telekinesis to summon her back to bed. "Torchwood can wait. Let's stay in bed." He turned his head to the side and flashed her smile that would have been seductive if she wasn't positive he was suffering from morning breath. "Spending time in bed's more productive than spending time at Torchwood, isn't it?"

Rose smiled and shook her head. "Nice try. Now come on, shift. The sooner we go into work today the sooner we can come home."

The Doctor's face fell in a pout, and he grumbled to himself as he began the arduous process of dragging himself out of bed like a lazy cat. "Could be home a lot sooner if we never went in at all, but no, let's go into Torchwood, let's waste our day with new recruits and protocol and procedure . . ."

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><p><strong>3.) Recipes -<strong>

"Is that even _food_?"

"Yes, Jackie, it's _food_." The Doctor didn't bother keeping the irritation and offense out of his voice as he placed a casserole dish on the table. Back when he'd had two hearts and he and Rose had traveled on the TARDIS, he used to make alien dishes for her every now and then—cuisine that he knew how to make, that she wouldn't find anywhere on her planet. Now he had one heart and they were waiting for their TARDIS to grow, but he thought he'd give the cooking staff a night off while simultaneously giving Rose a reminder (not that she seemed to need one) that he was the same man he'd always been. "Had to use all Earth ingredients, didn't I? Substitutions. Still, could've turned out worse. I think this will work quite nicely."

"What is it?" Rose asked, sitting up a bit straighter in her chair to look over at it. "You said it was something from the planet . . . Dravidia, right?"

"Drahva, actually! The most famous dish in the capital. Did you know, they once had an entire planetary revolution over this casserole. Cities burned, armies lost, and all because the one copy of the recipe had been stolen by a revolutionary bent on blaming the Empress for it and taking the throne while the rest of the empire revolted. Of course, it didn't work—the revolutionary was found, the recipe recovered by an intrepid wanderer—"

"I'm sure," Rose said, and the Doctor exchanged a grin with her.

"—but despite that—or because of it, depending on how you look at it—it became the most famous dish in that corner of the galaxy. Of course, as I said, I had to use the best Earth ingredient substitutes that I could, but I still think I made D'alakharo proud."

"D'alakharo?"

"Original chef."

"Ah, should have figured."

"Well, it certainly looks interesting enough," Pete said, with a smile that clearly said he was up for trying anything once, even if he was skeptical that it was safe. Jackie wore her skepticism in her frown, but nonetheless took the spatula when Pete passed it to her. Five year old Tony, however, sat up straighter on the booster he had on his chair, staring eagerly at the casserole dish.

"It's an alien?"

"No, it's alien _food_, or the closest to alien food we can get," the Doctor corrected. It seemed to be a good enough answer for Tony, whose eyes lit up the second the word 'alien' left the Doctor's mouth. "'Course, it's only alien food to you. If you were from the planet Drahva, this would be normal and those chips you had for lunch earlier would be alien."

"Drahva," Tony said slowly, drawing the syllables out in his mouth. "There's aliens on Drahva? S'a planet far away, in space?"

"Yep, you've got it," the Doctor said, and Rose smiled in encouragement at her little brother. Tony beamed.

"Cool!"

The Doctor winked at him. "Brilliant."

Tony took the hint, and bobbed his head in an enthusiastic nod as his mother put some Drahvan casserole on his plate. "Brill'ant!"


End file.
